


A Feathers Worth

by Colanom



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: preening
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 08:27:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17117912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Colanom/pseuds/Colanom
Summary: Preening Day in McDuck Manor





	A Feathers Worth

“Uncle Donald!” Dewey whines, though not making any attempt to escape, knowing all too well it was a fruitless endeavor. “Do we really need to do this?”

Donald makes an angry noise, too busy trying to get this stubborn feather on Dewey's left shoulder to answer him.

“I didn’t hear you complaining while Louie and I were getting preened.” Huey says as he turns through the pages of the Jr. Woodchucks Guidebook, Louie snickering next to him while he plays on his phone.

The four of them were in the living room of McDuck Manor, that being the place Donald had finally cornered and apprehended them. He had chased them around for a good hour, running into many of their traps along the way, and falling down the steps of the main foyer.

Preening day was always like this. Once a month, usually the 5th, Donald would round the boys up and straighten up/remove any out of place feather. He tells them that he wouldn’t have to do this if they would just remember to do it themselves, but they never do. Even Huey, by far the most responsible, falls behind in that category. If he didn’t know any better, Donald might assume that they enjoyed making their uncle chase them around.

Dewey, squirming a bit and making Donald lose track of that broken feather he saw, folds his arms and sticks his tongue out at his two brothers. “Yeah, whatever, if it weren’t for you two letting Uncle Donald know where we were hiding, we wouldn’t be in this mess!”

Huey slams his book shut. “Excuse me!? How is Louie sneezing my fault!?” 

“You said ‘bless you’!” Dewey tries to lean forward, but Donald gives a quiet noise and he leans back with a disinterested ‘sorry’.

“What was I supposed to do, say nothing and seem rude?”

“Yes!” Dewey yells.

“Dewey!” Donald finally says sternly, sitting up and crossing his arms. “Stop yelling!”

“Oops, sorry.” Dewey says sheepishly, giving the duck a shy smile.

“An’ what, pray tell, are all ye up too?” 

All four jump as Scrooge appears from seemingly nowhere, standing next to the couch and leaning on his cane.  
Donald rolls his eyes at his uncle. “It was preening day.” He quacks out, handing Dewey his shirt and smiling as the duckling cheers as he puts it back on, relieved to finally be done with this.

The two watch as the three boys all get up and race out of the room, most likely off to find Webby. Donald sighs, stretching his arms high above him and hearing his back give a satisfying “POP!” as it did. He feels his uncle plop down onto the couch next to him.

“Didn’t think ye would carry on that tradition, nephew.” Scrooge says fondly, Donald laughing in reply.

“I wasn’t originally going to, but then they started refusing to do it themselves, so I had to step in.”

He hears Scrooge hum in reply, and for a minute they just sit there. Donald focusing on the distant sounds of the kids thumping down the halls, finding some odd peace in it. And even manages to space out.

That is, until he feels a tiny pull at his feathers, and jumps. Scrooge hums again, this time a small tune that Donald just barely remembers, and he finds himself relaxing again. He feels Scrooge pull at more feathers. Even tutting at him softly when he finds a rather large bunch of unkempt ones, but that seems to satisfy Donald in away, a wave of comfort and nostalgia seeping into the duck. Taking him back in time when he was small and naive and Scrooge would do the exact same thing after every adventure. Pulling the small and dirtied duckling into his lap and spending sometimes hours fixing his coat. 

Della would never get this treatment, having hated being preened by others and would always do it herself. Not that Donald minded in the slightest, Della always had Scrooge's attention, but here? It was the only time where Donald felt that Scrooge didn’t hold his sister above him. That for once, he was the favorite… Well, he could pretend, anyway.

Donald doesn’t notice that Scrooge has finished until he finds himself drifting off into sleep, his head lying comfortably in his uncle's lap. For a moment he tries to fight it off, but when he hears that distant humming, and feels a gentle hand start stroking his hair, he lets his eyes slide shut and gives into the sense of comfort that he was certain he’d never feel again.

 

 

Scrooge McDuck sighs as he looks down at his nephew, looking more at peace than he has in months- years even. And finds himself wondering how he ever let him go.

**Author's Note:**

> I am not quite sure why I wrote this, and why I stayed up till 4:30 writing it, but I did.


End file.
